


Heaven In Your Eyes

by orphan_account



Series: SWTOR: Ancalagon Legacy [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Influenza, M/M, Mental Health Discussions, Post-Star Wars: The Old Republic - Onslaught, Recovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Sickfic, Slice of Life, The Force Ships It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23459140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: As Zephyr struggles with the everyday demands that came with being the Alliance Commander, he comes down with a serious case of influenza after returning from a diplomatic mission from the Outer Rim. Barred from work, Zephyr spends his time recovering. Along the way, he discovers a few things about himself and Scourge.OR: Local Jedi gets sick and mother-hen boyfriend protocol is activated. Not even HK-55 would dare interfere.
Relationships: Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Lord Scourge, Male Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Lord Scourge
Series: SWTOR: Ancalagon Legacy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687606
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. I Want to See Your Love Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! :D
> 
> This is my first time posting in the SWTOR fandom. I just finished up the Jedi Knight story and the Onslaught expansion a few days ago. I wanted to write something fluffy especially with all the things happening right now in the world. I know the choice of writing a sickfic might be odd but I promise this is going to be nothing but soft and cuddly. So soft and cuddly you would get teeth cavity. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please leave a kudos and comment <3
> 
> And yes, the title is a Top Gun reference. I literally didn't know what to put for a title. I'm bad at titles.

Zephyr closed his eyes as he exhaled shakily. The weight of his fatigue sunk its claws on his shoulders and he found himself collapsing back on his bed. He felt tremors slowly seizing his hands. He raised his hands to rake through his hair, throwing it back to a dishevelled state. He inhaled shakily and exhaled again, desperately trying to remain calm. The heaviness in his chest was a result of the violent pounding of his heart. He exhaled loudly and growled quietly to himself but the sound broke away into a quiet whimper.

He was so tired. Tired of everything. Tired of shouldering the responsibility of so many things. Weary and worn down from juggling so many different social masks as the circumstances required of him. He was tired of it all.

When was the last time he rested? When was the last time that he had room to breathe in between?

From the time he was Knighted as a Jedi, to facing down the Emperor, to being frozen on carbonite for five years, and to finally defeat the latest reincarnation of the Emperor for the second time. When has he taken the time to rest, even for a little while?

He could literally feel his body shutting down. And this was alarming because no one else on the Alliance knew how weak he was, how tired and frail he has become. Not even his inner circle of friends knew. No one knew the real reflection, except him. Not even Scourge, and that man could pick up on a trail of clues several klicks away. Ever since his ascension to the Eternal Throne, no one knew how he was feeling and how he was coping.

And now in the privacy of his own quarters, the uselessness of his facades weighs on him. The gravity pulls at the seams and tears the foundation. He never knew such a violent craving for respite until today.

Even now, old habits gnaw away at him, begging him to be absorbed in another activity in order to mask any insecurity that might be detected by unwanted eyes.

For once, Zephyr was grateful that he found what little energy he had left to change into a loose black shirt and grey sweatpants. He lowered himself into the bed and turned his back towards the durasteel doors, facing the wall. He inhales again and shuts his eyes.

Minutes passed and he delved deeper into oblivion.

He thought he felt the mattress dipping some time later, but before he could make sense of it, darkness engulfed him.

* * *

When he came to again, a gentle warmth pressed on his cheek. A formidable weight circled around his waist, trapping him against something warm. Something was raking his hair in repetitive motions, almost absent-mindedly. A frisson of pleasure shot down his spine and without warning, he nuzzled deeper into the source of warmth, much to his surprise. Just as his mind was catching up to the oddity surrounding him, a deep voice chuckled above him. Blearily, he cracked open an eyelid and tired gazed up at the one who had the audacity to invade his bed.

Scourge smirked down at him, his gaze soft and fond. "You look tired, Jedi. You must have been so if you slept through my noisy invasion of your own quarters."

Zephyr heard the unspoken question, the underlying current of concern poking at the edges. He looked down and shut his eyes, swallowing back the fluttering in his gut. A shudder invaded his body again, only this time it wasn't from pleasure. He felt cold suddenly and he burrowed deeper into Scourge's gargantuan frame. The Sith was a furnace and he exhaled in relief as some of the heat chased away the cold biting at him. He inhaled deeply again, satisfied for a moment.

"You're awfully touchy today, Zephyr," the Sith leaned in his ear and chuckled.

Zephyr swallowed and huffed, turning away to hide his face on the Sith's side. "I'm not touchy and needy," he murmured.

He felt scorching heat breaking out slowly over his neck and running down his spine. Suddenly, everything felt too hot and it was overwhelming. Beads of sweat broke out over his skin and he wanted to be somewhere cold. He felt the tremors beginning again, only this time it was on every extremity of his body. His chest shuddered with every breath as coldness and scorching heat assaulted him on all sides. He tried to hide it by extricating himself from Scourge's embrace, but it was too late.

Zephyr felt the man's thick arm stiffening around his waste and gently drew him back in. He could feel the piercing gaze of the Sith roaming all over his figure, studying and analysing. Zephyr exhaled shakily and the involuntary tremors racking his frame grew stronger. Exhaustion weighed down his arms and legs, and he found himself barely able to lift his head from where it was cradled against Scourge's side. He flinched when he felt a hand wandering up his neck and gliding over his face, then resting at his forehead.

"You're getting sick, Zephyr. You're burning up," Scourge said, almost a whisper.

"I'm not sick. 'm just tired. It's too cold in here," Zephyr murmured. It felt too cold and too hot all the same. Did someone turn up the heater? "I just need sleep."

Scourge made a disapproving sound. "You do look like you've seen better days. When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

Weeks ago. Not that he would tell.

"Zephyr, don't lie to me," the Sith said softly. "When was the last time you slept soundly?"

Blast it.

Zephyr sighed, shutting his eyes against the piercing gaze rested on him. "Weeks ago. I don't know. I don't remember. I had work to finish and loose ends to tie up. Couldn't even get a shuteye in between."

He shivered when a heavy hand ran down his back. "You've lost weight since the last time I saw you. You're running yourself to the ground, Zephyr. You need to remember to rest."

A spark of frustration ignites in his gut and it gave him enough energy to fight off the drowsiness that almost defeated his body. Zephyr gritted his teeth and rolled away from the pureblood Sith, ignoring the little grunt of surprise that came from the older man. He swings himself to the edge of the bed and exhales sharply as he stands to his feet. He crosses his arms and shakes his head, desperately fighting back the bitter chuckle that wants to be let loose.

He moves to go to the chair where he hung his change of clothes, when he was faced with a gargantuan wall of muscle in the form of the Sith. Zephyr hardens his facial expression and glares down at his feet. He feels more fragile than he ever felt in the last few years but his instincts be damned if he was going to reveal his insecurities. He didn't realize how deep in thought he was until he felt the warmth of hands alighting on the sides of his face. The warmth from those hands seered his pale skin and slowly crept upwards to cup his cheeks.

A finger was hooked under his chin and slowly tilted his face upwards. The last of his willpower dissolved and he gave in, gazing up at the pale amber eyes.

"I am sorry if I was not there to alleviate your burdens, Zephyr. I apologize for not being available when you needed me," Scourge said softly, his eyes open and honest. "I keep forgetting that you shouldered burdens no one has in your age. I keep forgetting you're younger than me and thus have not lived through what I have. And I see you are tired. But I cannot help you unless you let me."

Zephyr looked down, swallowing hard. "Everyone is relying on me to save the galaxy all the time. I'm not going to lie -- I did do the impossible and I have defied expectations when I faced down my enemies. But, as a result, I didn't realize I developed a reputation until it was too late."

He swallowed again, and winced as his own voice was hoarse and grating to his ears. What an inconvenient time to be breaking down. "You don't see it. I don't - I don't think anyone would. But I don't blame them. Or you. When our troops look at me, they see the Alliance Commander that effortlessly slices through enemy ranks. They see me as some infallible being capable of crushing enemy resistance wherever we go. The events at Iokath and Zakuul proved it in their eyes. Defeating Valkorion didn't help either."

He exhaled shakily, blinking away the unwelcome moisture that crept into his eyes. "I'm a machine that works miracles for the galaxy. But, I'm not. I'm just a man. I'm just a disgraced Jedi exiled from the Order for resorting to strategies and measures that won us the battles along the way. I'm . . . I'm just one man. And, I . . . I don't know if I can continue playing this charade."

He flinched in surprise when a thumb skittered across the skin beneath his eye, wiping away tears he didn't realize were falling.

"I have failed you. I'm sorry, Zephyr. I'm sorry I failed to see this. It was wrong of me to leave you while I went away and hunted for the Emperor's original body," Scourge leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. "I will not leave your side again. We should have worked together on this. I am sorry. Will you forgive me?"

Zephyr shut his eyes, exhaling shakily. "It's not your fault. I don't blame you, remember?" he murmured.

Scourge tilted his head and leaned in to press his nose against his cheek. "I still ask for your forgiveness. Will you forgive me?"

He swallowed again. "Yeah. We're, um, we're good."

"Of course. Now, you need to sleep. I will keep watch over you," Scourge leaned in further and pressed his nose against the side of his head. A tender kiss on his head was enough to let him feel drowsy again. "I will not leave you. I will still be here when you wake. And then, we will talk more if you wish. But for now, rest, my fierce Jedi."

"I'm no longer a Jedi, Scourge," Zephyr rasped, feeling his heart clenching. "They - they exiled me, remember?"

"You will always be _my_ Jedi," Scourge growled. Zephyr felt one of the pureblood Sith's hands crawling to the back of his neck, gently squeezing the muscle there in reassurance. "Nothing will change that. The Force revealed you to me centuries ago and I will not relinquish that claim to anyone. The Force revealed you to me. You are _mine_ , and I am yours."

It was getting harder to fight off the assaults of drowsiness. As Scourge drew him deeper into his embrace, he found himself slumping against the stability provided by the man's stature. It seemed that his sudden fatigue has not gone unnoticed.

"It seems you won't be walking back to your bed," Scourge said, amused.

Zephyr shut his eyes and burrowed deeper into the embrace, growling at the implication. "I'm walking back to the kriffing bed. If you carry me like a blushing bride, I will gut you."

"I would like to see you try, my sweet," Scourge chuckled. The deep rumbling in his chest was a comfortable sound to hear.

In the end, Scourge won. He fell back to unconsciousness before he could muster the strength to get away from the deep embrace he was locked in.

* * *

The next time he resurfaced to full consciousness, Zephyr was assaulted with a whole list of maladies. His entire body felt like it was trapped in the maws of a firaxan shark only to be dragged down into the twilight depths of the ocean.

Lead weighed down on his eyelids and it took a frustrating amount of energy to even pry them open. His sinuses felt clogged and there was this odd deprivation of oxygen in his lungs. Sores and aches have erupted all over his body, and he felt his muscles twitching in dull pain. The thought of moving even an inch of muscle struck fear into him. He swallowed back his emotions and tried to breath through his nose.

After a few desperate attempts, it left him breathless and panting like a drowning man. Panic settled in his chest and he opened his mouth, gasping violently for oxygen. An itch developed in his throat and he curled inwards, coughing violently. When the coughing fit continued, he felt disturbed at the sound he heard from his lungs. He collapsed back under the covers, still gasping for air.

Even now, he still could not pry his eyelids open to gaze at the world. He felt something pressing against his forehead and he leaned into it. He felt something else pressing against the side of his neck, two points of pressure that probed the skin between his jaw, the place where his carotid artery pounded the fiercest. A little bit of lucidity dripped back into his mind and he understood that someone was taking his heart rate. The hand on his forehead disappeared. The familiar warmth reappeared when it gently pressed against his chest, hovering above his sternum.

It seemed like his rebellious body despised that. The slightest pressure on his cheet elicited a violent cough from him, surprising him with its tenacity. He turned his head and rolled to his side, thtoat raw from hacking out the blockage that accumulated at the back of his throat. He winced as the coughing episode continued, high-pitched sounds whistling past his sensitive ears.

Fatigue gripped him by the talon again. He felt his entire body going limp and collapsing back against the bed, chest heaving from the entire ordeal. A wave of frustration washed over him and he growled against it, only for it to come out as a feeble whimper. The hand returned to his forehead and he felt something reassuring about that touch.

He didn't know how long he remained there, in that comfortable place between lucidity and delirium. The world was a paradox, being both cold and hot, both extreme ends coming to meet in the middle and mixing into a potent cocktail. He shivered because he felt too cold, but he drowned in his sweat because it was too warm. His whole being aches at even the slightest movement.

He wanted to laugh at the sheer irony of his circumstances. For someone who needed rest, the universe gave him another ordeal to endure.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when he felt something being pressed against his lips. His body has reverted to primal instincts and his jaw parted slightly without question. He felt the rush of cold water trickling down his throat, and he whined in relief. The source of his water vanished and he chased after it, only to be thwarted by a hand gently pressing him down on the bed. With nothing else to do, he drifts away again.

The next time drifts back to awareness, the heaviness in his chest felt a ittle lighter and lead weighing down his eyelids had vanished. With great effort, he blearily opened his eyes and sauinted against the lights that invaded his retina. Blinking furiously, he opened them again and was met with the familiar environment of his personal quarters.

The lights were dimmed at the lowest settings. As he scanned his surroundings, he found that everything was where he left it, with a few exceptions. To the side of his bed and placed on top of the bedside table, there was a bowl of steaming soup and a glass of water. In the far side of the room, his eyes land on Scourge's gargantuan frame, lounging against the sofa as he read something on a holopad.

Even from here, Zephyr could see the furrows in the other man's forehead and the strained look in his eyes. He felt a small smile forming on his face as quiet affection squeezed his chest. Whatever it was on that holopad that kept the Sith occupied, Zephyr was grateful that he had the chance to just sit back and observe.

But like anything involving him, Scourge was always attuned to it. As if the pureblood Sith suddenly became aware of being watched, Scourge powered down the holopad and set it aside. His amber eyes eventually found Zephyr's tired gaze. A wave of warmth washed over Zephyr as he observed those eyes losing their hard edges. He observed as Scourge rose up from the sofa and walked towards him, his footsteps soundless and swift. The mattress dipped as Sith sat on the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving him. A soft flutter tickled his gut when the Sith smiled down at him, and for once in his life, Zephyr marvelled at what a great privilege it was to see that kind of emotion on someone who was once a sworn enemy of the Jedi.

Zephyr was often still struck dumbfounded at the intensity of the emotions he always found behind those amber eyes. No one had ever looked at him like that, like every movement or word he said held something of great significance. He reminisced on the day where they confessed their feelings to one another on one of the docking bays at the Alliance base. The gentle act of holding hands, the shy and hesitant glances, the moments of truth. Scourge, rediscovering who he was. Scourge, the assertive hunter who always pursues what he desires.

As he recalled these things, Zephyr broke his gaze and looked away, feeling a warm flush saturating the pale skin of his cheeks.

The gentle hand cupping his cheek drew him out of his thoughts. "Your pale skin is your weakness, Jedi. You must have interesting thoughts right now," Scourge smirked teasingly. "I wonder what they are."

Oh, great. What a way to kill the mood. Ironically enough, his heart sank as he _felt_ more color rushing into his cheeks. His body was a traitor. He was betrayed by his own biology. How pathetic was that?

Zephyr puckered his nose and scowled, ignoring the fact that he must be an interesting shade of crimson right now. "Ew. Can you not. I'm still sick and all you can think about is that. I swear. You're disgusting, sometimes."

Scourge chuckled, still smirking. His voice lowered an octave, producing that faint rumbling purr that he does when he was high on emotion. "I did say once, didn't I? That pleasure is a great motivator."

Something died at the back of his throat. Zephyr blinked again, frowning even more. He looked away, shivering at the implication.

"Ew. You're disgusting. Go and . . . go leave me alone. I swear. Your prick always moves first before your brain," he murmured, inwardly embarassed as he lost further control over his own bodily reactions.

Force, why was he behaving like an addict suffering withdrawal whenever the Sith was around?

"I apologize, my sweet," Zephyr felt himself flushing even more as the pureblood Sith chuckled, seemingly drawing more amusement from his reactions. He didn't sound apologetic, no, not one bit. "But, you have always looked positively ravishing when you blush. As I said, your pale skin puts you in a disadvantage. If only you see yourself, you would see that you are quite the catch."

He sighed, huffing in annoyance. "You're impossible."

"Nothing is impossible, Jedi," the pureblood Sith reached out again, carding his fingers through the Jedi's short ebony hair. Zephyr closed his eyes, leaning into it. "How are you feeling though?"

Zephyr blearily opened his eyes again, slowly meeting his gaze. "I feel great, like I just won ten rounds against a Gormak," he murmured sardonically. He winced as he just realized now that his throat was still raw and hoarse from his coughing fits. "No, of course, I feel terrible. I look like how I feel."

The hands in his hair wander down to the side of his face. Without meaning to, Zephyr shuts his eyes again to imprint this tactile sensation in his memory. The warmth settles in his bones and coils around him, chasing away the chills that were racking his body. The warmth was such a stark contrast to the coldness he was feeling that he gave into the primal urge of huddling closer to the source of heat. He listened as the mattress shifted again, sensing Scourge inching closer. He opened his eyes again, only to widen in pleasant surprise when he realized the small distance separating them.

From where he was lying on the bed, he could now see the tiny flecks and veins of crimson scattered throughout the irises of the Sith's eyes. Those amber eyes were glinting now with some kind of strong emotion, and once again the intensity of it frightens him a little. To have that intensity directed all at once on him, was both overwhelming and exhilirating. From the time they crossed paths on Quesh, both separated by a ray shield barrier, the Force crackled and whispered in his ears. His instincts have never failed him as a Jedi, and his instincts revealed a future ally in Scourge.

The planes and valleys of the Sith's face was a landscape that he has embedded in his memory. In those quiet moments aboard his starship, he had quietly observed the Sith, gathering as much data as he could on this enigma. Over time, it simply became a guilty pleasure. At that time, Scourge was a distant person, and if Zephyr was honest, the Sith sometimes grated him with the tactless manner he sometimes approached affairs. But as the years passed between vanquishing the Emperor and finally subjugating his second incarnation in Valkorion, Zephyr saw the first thawing in Scourge's armor.

As the other man wrestled with the return of emotions and memories on the simple pleasures of life, Zephyr quietly documented the man's journey in his mind. Since from a young age, his memory has always been impeccable. He fondly remembered that he astounded his Jedi Masters when they accidentally realized that he devoured most of the knowledge in the Jedi Archives. Procuring knowledge has always been his favourite hobby, and he remembered how Master Orgus always lamented the fact that he asked too many questions. He was often told to have the mind and curiosity of a Consular, but the skills and reflexes of a duelist.

In the end, his appetite for knowledge and improvement led to his downfall. In the war, he resorted to methods and measures he wasn't proud of. There were times he brushed closer to the Dark side of the Force and it frightened him to realize that it had the capacity to both corrupt and strengthen the purpose of the wielder. Sometimes, he wondered.

What did Scourge see in him? He wasn't lying when he said that there was nothing impressive about his accomplishments. He had multiple people as a support and if anything, the credit should have gone to them. There should have been nothing memorable about what he has done. The Emperor was defeated as a result of the effort and planning coordinated by the Republic and the Jedi strategists of the Jedi Order. The Alliance was built on the hands and minds of the people that believed in an idea that they all believed in. If it weren't for them, Lana wouldn't have found him in the carbonite prison. The credit should go to where it's due, not to him.

There was nothing monumental about him.

And yet, how did he come here? He wasn't a hero. He was just a man.

And he knew that not everyone was a fan of the Alliance. If someone went after the Alliance because of his reputation, it still kills a part of him.

A gentle touch on his cheek drew him away from his intropection.

"Have I ever told you how stunning your eyes look? They are like the fierce waves in the ocean before a magnificent storm," Scourge whispered, his eyes softening. Zephyr locked gazes with him, eyes widening. As the full gravity of those words settled in, he looked away, feeling his cheeks flushing. "You've never seen yourself in battle, have you? I have. When we fought, you were unlike any storm I faced. And I have battled formidable Sith warriors and Jedi alike in my lifetime. The Sith are like fire, the magma in a volcanic explosion. But you, Jedi, you are not like them. When you fight, you fight like an ocean disturbed from its calm. You fight like the waves of the ocean, and when they are disturbed or wronged, they send waves of towering heights to smite their foes. You were a tsunami when we fought. It was beautiful and glorious."

Zephyr felt his mouth twitching in affection, ignoring the flutter in his gut. He blinked, sighing as he felt more heat going into his face. "Is this really a good time to be waxing poetry about each other?"

Scourge looked serious, though. "You think so lowly of yourself. Yes, I noticed, Zephyr. You never held yourself in high regard," the Sith said softly. Zephyr stiffened up in surprise. "You always wanted to be the man behind the curtain. You never saw yourself as worthy of all this, did you? You just wanted a simple and quiet life. But all the same, your trials have brought out in you the best qualities I have seen in anyone. You hold yourself in low regard that you don't see just how valuable you are."

Zephyr's jaw parted slightly in astonishment. Scourge took this chance and continued. "Value is a subjective aspect of life. But in your case, you are unfairly biased against yourself. From the moment I saw you, the Force sealed our fate. My visions of you paled in comparison to seeing you in the flesh. You were a ferocious fire in the Force. Stronger than anything I've seen. I am still drawn to you to this day. You're still one of the few to walk in balance with the Light and Dark sides of the Force. And you've grown beyond my expectations."

"My point is this; you possess a certain strength of character that continues to awe me," Scourge dropped his voice into a whisper. Zephyr closed his mouth and swallowed, overwhelmed by emotion. "You care so deeply for people. You have a bleeding heart, Jedi, but it bleeds for people. And you always try to hide it. You may have went to war but you did so because you had something valuable to protect. You were moved by passion and you acted on it. You are unbound by tradition and this makes you a visionary. This is just one of the many aspects of you that I find admirable."

Oh, well. Who knew that Scourge had a secret love affair with poetry. Maybe he took a few notes from the Voss when they were tracking down Darth Fulminiss. Kriff it, he was getting tired of having his entire blood flushing into his cheeks.

"I don't understand. There really is nothing impressive about me," Zephyr croaked. He chuckled bitterly, wincing as he coughed again. He shivered and shut his eyes when the pureblood Sith leaned in and left a tender kiss on his head.

"I keep forgetting what a Jedi you are," Scourge whispered, his baritone voice rumbling with amusement and affection.

Zephyr felt his face flushing again. He exhaled and huffed in exasperation. "You might catch what I have if you keep staying close to me," he murmured, scowling against Scourge who was looking more amused by the minute. "Seriously. I'm sick. You should probably tell the others if you haven't. I get the feeling I'll be down for a while."

"Your work as the Commander should be the last thing on your mind right now," Scourge said dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. "And seeing as you have no problems for now, I'm afraid I have a few quick errands to attend to. I suppose I could trust you to keep yourself behaved for the next hour."

The Jedi stared. Suddenly, he was in the mood for some warm company. Not _that_ kind of company. Just, you know, the cuddling-and-snuggling kind of company. Alright, alright. If this is how Scourge wants to play it, so be it. A plot was forming in his mind.

Zephyr stayed quiet for a moment. He laid back on the pillow and his eyes darted back to the bowl of soup and glass of water on the bedside table. He was surprised to see that it was still warm. His eyes darted back and forth between the food set aside for him and Scourge, who was now narrowing his eyes as if he realized something was up. Smirking a little to himself, he gave the Sith the best bedside eyes he ever gave. Kriff, maybe he could have been a popular actor in Coruscanti plays.

"Okay. _Okay_. Fine. If you've got work to do, fine by me. Leave me _alone_ ," he deliverately lowered his voice by an octave. Zephyr raised his eyebrows and mustered the most deviously innocent expression on his face. "Leave me alone in this -- in this lonely, big, warm, comfy bed. And since you left me alone, well, I guess I should leave it up to your imagination on what I'll do. I would be so, _so_ helpless. I wouldn't be able to go and _relieve_ myself in the fresher. I'm so weak and tired that I can't even lift myself off the bed to, uh, _eat_. I'll stay hungry and _lonely_. But, by all means, you can go and, and _leave me_. I understand. Work is too _important._ "

Scourge stared at him with a deadpan expression, shaking his head. "This is really not your day, is it?" the Sith pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are more than capable of feeding yourself, Zephyr."

"That's why I said it, didn't I?" Zephyr replied as he kept his brows raised, deviously innocent. "Leave me alone and go, save the world or something. Your damsel in distress is not going anywhere. I'll still be here. I'll just be _lonely_ in the meantime. Because my big and bad knight in dashing black armor is too busy preaching about what he doesn't practice."

Scourge sighed, shaking his head. "You are an utter sap."

Zephyr sniffed, deliberately making his eyes go wide. "Oh, there you go. The honest truth comes out. I've been cheated of true love. What has the world come to?"

A delightful flutter erupted in his gut as he saw Scourge scowling. For some reason, Zephyr got the feeling that he was surprised and flustered about these turn of events. "You are very persuasive when you want to be, Jedi," Scourge growled.

Oh, there it is.

What could he say? Reverse psychology at its best.

Sith in the streets, beast in the sheets.

Zephyr smirked, gratified that his plan is coming to fruition. "You don't have to ask for permission. You can leave now. I'm just, uh, letting you know that certain actions have certain consequences. Either way, I promise I'll behave."

"You are one manipulative, conniving bastard," Scourge hissed as he stalked closer, straightening himself to his full height. The words sound harsh but it was the eyes that gave it away. Zephyr saw the interest and excitement. "That mouth of yours will get you in serious trouble someday."

He shivered at the implication, swallowing hard. But he was focused on his mission.

Scourge was a man of passion. It was so easy to mislead him sometimes to think something else was going to happen. With all the subtle word plays, he would never blame the man for falling into that trap.

But what he had in mind was something completely different. He was in the mood to be a little petty, in a friendly manner, of course. For all of the larger Sith's strength and imposing aura, it would be so much fun to put a dent in that armor.

No, tonight, there will be none of that primal action. He had nothing else in mind, except for a quiet night in the covers, just huddled together. Definitely more wholesome.

And the trap was sprung.

Zephyr felt his smug bravado strengthening. His heart was pounding again. A frisson of excitement slithered down his spine. "Admit it, big guy. You like it," he smirked. "What do you say? Forget about work for a night. And then maybe . . . the bed won't be so lonely anymore."

The trap was working. It was working. It definitely was.

The mattress dipped again as the Sith took the other half of his bed, gazing down at him. His heart pounded as Scourge loomed over him, amber eyes blazing. As the pureblood Sith propped himself on an elbow, the man reached out and placed a hand on his stomach, caressing it.

Nice try, but it will take much more to break his willpower. And the fact that he had little energy and strength helped him in that regard.

A glint of concern appeared in those amber eyes. "Are you sure you're up for this, Zephyr?" Scourge whispered. "I don't know if this is what you need right now."

Zephyr flared his nose and deliberately swallowed in a feigned show of arousal, and his misdirection was effective when the Sith's eyes roamed to the pale expanse of his neck, watching in fascination as his throat muscles worked. The broad-shouldered Sith smirked and leaned down, intent to start what he thought was tonight's order of business.

And, the trap is released.

Zephyr used the last reserves of his energy to tackle Scourge. He bit his lip to hide his cackle of delight as he heard Scourge yelping in surprise. He grunted as his head collided with the solid muscle of the Sith's chest and he used his momentum to pin the larger man down. Wasting no time, he trapped his quarry by nuzzling closer to his side, snaking an arm around the Sith's waist and locking him in. At the same time he threw a leg over the man's legs and locked his foot against his own heel, effectively trapping their legs together.

He nuzzled his cheek against the Sith's chest. When he lifted his gaze and their eyes met, he dropped his deception, smirking like a nexu as he saw the shock settling in. He blinked innocently as he saw a spark of frustration and surprise ignite behind those eyes. Scourge clenched his jaw and bared his teeth, revealing rows of sharp canines. Zephyr allowed his smirk to evolve into a full-blown grin as he rested his cheek again on the Sith's chest, eyes never leaving the other man. He could sense the Sith's frustration and grudging amusement brewing like a small storm.

"Why, thank you for joining me in bed," Zephyr smirked, chuckling as Scourge only growled in response. "It is nice to know that romance hasn't died."

"I knew it. _I knew it_. You were up to something," Scourge growled in an accusatory note.

"It's not my fault that you constantly think of me in explicit contexts," Zephyr adopted an innocent expression. "I never implied anything. You're just horny all the time. It's not my fault that you always think of me like that."

"You manipulated me all the same," Scourge growled. "You are the most devious, conniving, slippery, and shameless man I've ever had the misfortune to meet."

"Well, according to the man, I look 'positively ravishing'," Zephyr smirked as Scourge steadily lost his cool. "Isn't that why you still stay?"

Scourge snarled, before shutting his eyes, exhaling heavily. "You are infuriating. I should do something about that mouth of yours. It's becoming rather insubordinate."

Typical Sith thing to say.

Affection squeezed his chest. The mischievousness in his grin dissipated, leaving behind something softer. He smiled softly up at the Sith, inhaling deeply as he closed his eyes. Fatigue eventually caught up with him, and he nuzzled a little more into Scourge's massive frame, finding a way to get more comfortable. He opened his eyes when he felt a hand running down the side of his abdomen. He gave a small smile again, feeling content.

"If this was what you wanted, you should have just said so," Scourge chuckled quietly. "I would've stayed. All you had to do was ask."

Ah, well, shucks.

But the operation was a success.

Who could complain?

Zephyr turned his face away, hiding the warmth spreading into his cheeks. All of his courage suddenly baled out on him. "Shut up. Let me have this victory," his words were muffled by the clothing.

"You're impossible," Scourge said fondly.

_I love you._

Zephyr bit his tongue before he could confess the words. He felt his heart stuttering and he blushed at the desperation of his thought. He bit back a sound of contentment when he felt hands carding through his hair.

"Are you still hungry? Or was that a ruse as well?"

Zephyr craned his neck, eyelids opening halfway to gaze up at Scourge's amused look. "No. Not - not really hungry," he yawned, shutting his eyes again.

A thumb pressed against his forehead and he sighed as the Sith made repetitive circular movements against his head. A deep rumbling purr echoed in the man's chest. A wave of tired confusion washes over the Jedi and he blearily cracks an eyelid open to gaze at Scourge, whose expression now borders on a mix of fondness and exasperation.

Scourge laughs quietly as he saw the Jedi narrowing his eyes at him. "I think I like this look on you. Tired and needy," he purred in his devastating baritone voice. Then, a subtle softness creeps into his voice. "Your hair disturbed from its prim and proper places. Your eyes and face, unguarded and loose. You put on so many shells as the Commander that it makes it hard for me to read you. But here, I am granted one of the rare privileges of seeing _you_. The real, ungarded, _you_. And for that, I you will always cherish it. So, thank."

Well, there he goes again. The chronic poet.

"Scourge, you're gonna kill me someday if you keep this up," Zephyr muttered, feeling his face heat up again. "There has to be a limit. I can't take this many hits at once."

"A weakness must be exploited," the Sith teased gently.

Zephyr blinked a few times, trying to fight the sudden onslaught of drowsiness. "You're the worst," he yawned, scooting up to nuzzle against the side of the Sith's neck. "But Force help me. I'm . . . too attached to you."

_Attachments are dangerous, Padawan._

The words of Master Orgus Din echoed in his mind. Zephyr felt a pang of guilt at the thought. Sometimes, he wondered what his former Jedi Master would have made of him. Would he approve of what happened? Would he approve of this exiled Sentinel who learned the value of ruthlessness and pragmatism in the face of what the Order has taught him? Or would he be called a disgrace as well?

No, it wasn't right to think of such things at this time.

A large hand cradled the back of his head. A kiss landed on his forehead, taking him out of his toxic introspection. "I sense your fatigue, Jedi. Rest. We have all the time in the world to work. But now you need rest. Sleep well, my little starbird."

Zephyr felt his heart skipping multiple beats as affection squeezed his chest. He nuzzled deeper into the warm security offered by Scourge's embrace. The waves of fatigue and drowsiness were getting too overwhelming to keep at bay. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, feeling more content than he remembered in years.

"I love you," he muttered, sudden and unguarded.

He felt the arm around his abdomen stiffening precariously, but he was taken under by his fatigue before he ha a chance to think about Scourg's reaction.


	2. Chains of Love Got a Hold on Me

_He was falling. He was falling and there was no end to the fall._

_He sees a flash of blazing amber, and he gazes at it. Those amber eyes were familiar. But something felt wrong. When he looked at them, he somehow expected them to be full of warmth and affection._

_But all he saw in those amber depths, was hate. A roiling pot of hate and anguish. The red-skinned creature howled and it was a scream of pure agony and heartache, a scream so raw it knocked him to his knees. The creature mourns and grieves. It lost someone it loved so._

_Another flash. Rain pounded violently on the ground. Grime and crimson fluid mixed alike. Lightning split the sky, illuminating the surroundings. A limp body lay across from him, eyes glazed with death. The body had multiple exit wounds. The blood dried to a dark brown. It had been dead for a long time._

_Lightning struck again._

_The corpse shared his face._

* * *

Returning to full consciousness was a rocky road. Zephyr exhaled and his arm started blindly moving around him, trying to find the warmth of someone else that he grew accustomed to feeling. Residual emotion from his dreams were still in effect and his last descent to sleep was not ideal. A small dose of fear ignited in his heart and started rising to hysteria. He wasn't aware of his own movements but he needed to find his anchor. For some strange reason, his eyes refused to obey him as he tried to pry them open. His chest started heaving as he felt himself hyperventilating, when the familiar warmth he grew so dependent on appeared behind him.

A series of rhythmic and rumbling sounds echoed near his ears as he felt something warm and solid encircling his waist. The furnace-like warmth gently settled behind him and he slowly felt his fear vanishing. As if sensing his response, the arm around his waist twitched to life and slowly pulled him in against the warmth behind him. The soothing noises made by that voice still sang over him and he didn't know how much time has passed. When the haze of delirium retreated for now, he knew it was a matter of time before it would come back again. For now, he contented himself with laying down, listening to his surroundings.

Lucidity trickled back in slowly. The warmth behind him took on a more definite shape and his mind instantly recalled the pureblood Sith. His sense of touch returned to full function. He became intimately aware of every twitch of the Sith's abdominal muscles behind him. He was hyperaware of the small puffs of breath that landed on the back of his neck. He could feel the searing warmth of the thick arm around his abdomen, and he feels every minute twitch of muscle.

"It's only a nightmare, Zephyr," Scourge whispered behind his ear as he continued rubbing his hand over the Jedi's chest in a comforting gesture. "Nothing will happen. I promise you. I'm still here."

Zephyr tried working his jaw to speak, but an unusual fatigue has settled into his bones already, rendering him immobile. As if sensing his intention, Scourge hummed again in those deep baritone notes and gently squeezed his arm around his abdomen, an attempt to reassure him.

"You don't need to talk right now. Save your strength," Scourge whispered. A warm puff of breath tickled his neck and Zephyr heard the faint sound of a rumbling purr behind him. "You need to sleep. You haven't slept properly since you fell ill. It's close to midnight here on Odessen. Sleep and rest well. I'll always be here."

The darkness dominated his senses once again as he felt himself sinking further into the twilight depths of sleep.

* * *

The forces that be were kinder to him this time around. He spent his time cocooned in a dark space, drifting through the cosmic void in a state of free fall. No external forces assaulted his peaceful isolation.

The next time he landed on the shores of the waking world, bits and pieces of broken conversations filtered through his ears. He became aware of the softness of the pillow pressing on his cheek. He became aware of the comforting weight provided by the blankets that covered his entire body. A sense of lightness radiated through his body as he realized that he could breath properly again. The war with the fever may not be finished, but he felt slightly better than the last time he was awake.

After he was done taking note of these things, his mind returned to the whispers of conversations that were taking place. Even if he felt a little better, some instinct didn't stop him from eavesdropping on the people around him, however unethical it was.

"-- I'll need to get samples from him at some point, Scourge. It's just a little swab, that's it. I can't confirm what he caught unless you let me do it now."

He heard a low growl and he winced. It was a sound that never bode well. "This is not the right time, doctor. He is off-duty and he needs rest. He just recovered from a delirious episode hours ago and he is very unstable right now. I don't think he will respond well if I wake him up right now."

That was probably Doc. Good man.

The doctor sighed. Zephyr could just imagine the man shaking his head. "Okay. Fine. I'm not sure where he went exactly or if he ever talked about what business he just came back from. But, with the symptoms I see and the ones you listed, my best guess is that he caught a strain of the seasonal flu in one of the planets from the Outer Rim. But the issue is, there are multiple strains that go around depending on the planet. Like I said, I can't narrow down what kind of strain he has unless I get a swab test from him."

Scourge sighed. "I will take your request into consideration, doctor. I will speak with him about this as soon as he wakes up. Will he be alright for the time being? Is there anything I should do?"

"At this time, just let him rest as much as he can. From the looks of it, he seems to be doing fine for now. But he needs a lot of fluids. And that means, water. He will need that," Doc advised. "And soup broth is not a bad idea either. Any kind of broth is good as long as it's cooked right. None of that instanr stuff. It's warm and it's got the right amount of nutrients in it to help his body recover. When he wakes up, I'll need to perform a more general check-up on his health to see if there's anything that might complicate his recovery."

"Is there anything he didn't tell me?" Scourge asked sharply.

Doc sighed. "I don't know and if it is, it's medical information and that means it's confidential. I can't divulge medical information on anyone, even if it's your partner. I know, I know, why am I so hung about this knowing my reputation? Well, not that it should surprise anyone, but I do care about my patients. Unless he is at risk of threatening his life or the life of others, I can't tell you anything."

Doc continued. " _But_ , knowing him, and this is just between us as friends, my advice is this; don't be surprised if lover boy keeps a few things close to the vest. In all the years I worked with him in the field, he isn't the type to just open up to anyone. So, please? Don't make this an issue between you and him. Let him tell you at his own time. I can tell you from personal experience in matters like this, pressuring your partner is never the solution to anything. Ever. I know you mean well, but give him time."

"I am not jumping to conclusions, doctor."

"I know. But I see that look on your face. And that look means you want the answers laid out on the table right now. In your perspective, it might not make logical sense why a partner would keep their silence about this. But I'm telling you, give it time," Doc advised again, calm and understanding. "I know you care about him. And he cares about you. But you can't afford to rush things right now."

"I understand perfectly," Scourge said dryly.

"Do you? I'm warning you. Don't push this issue with him. Now, I gotta duck out. I don't want to talk too much, not if there's a risk I wake him up."

The locks clicking as the durasteel doors hissed shut. He heard Scourge shifting and starting to pace around, exhaling deeply as if something troubled him.

He took that as his cue to move.

He blearily opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was the same bowl of soup and glass of water that he saw earlier. It looked like the soup was reheated because he saw small wisps of vapour rising from it. As his gaze roamed around, he saw Scourge pacing frantically back and forth on the same spot, face pinched in deep thought. Or, that could be worry.

Testing his leg muscles, he felt relieved when the aching was now dulled to a tolerable level. It means he could move now, however limited that was. He looked back at Scourge and the man was still deeply absorbed in his own thoughts as he paced back and forth. With a deep breath, Zephyr slowly shifted under the blanket, carefully rising to a seated position. The blankets fell around his waist and he shook his head, clearing the last traces of drowsiness. He blinked again and by the time he looked at Scourge, the man already noticed he was awake.

Zephyr watched as a plethora of emotions warred for dominance on Scourge's face. The flashes of emotion were so fast but he thought he detected a few noticeable ones. Worry, concern, frustration. They could be attributed to many causes. A bloom of affection clenched his chest and he couldn't help but smiling at the Sith. The tension in the other man's posture faded as he approached Zephyr.

Scourge walked up to him and leaned down with a speed that surprised him. A warm hand grazed his neck and cupped his cheek, turning him towards the Sith. Before he could voice his confusion, Scourge stole the breath from his lungs with a searing joining of their mouths.

A frisson of pleasure slithered down his spine. Zephyr shut his eyes and followed, submitting to the fight for dominance. The hand on his cheek stayed while another landed on the side of his head, fiercely carding through the ebony strands of his hair. He gasped for breath in between the passionate assaults on his lips. The hand on his cheek cupped his jaw and turned his head to the side.

Air returned to his lungs when they broke away. The passionate assault returned but this time it launched an attack on his neck. Zephyr closed his eyes and swallowed as he felt a trail of searing warmth marking his skin. The faintest sense of sharp teeth grazed his skin, making him lightheaded. His chest heaved and he fell still as the passion died down to gentle and tender kisses. His carotid artery pounded when the Sith placed one last kiss on the pale skin there. They stayed like this for what felt like years.

He opened his eyes again when he heard a deep rumbling laugh, muffled against his neck. "If only I could make love to you right now. The sounds you make are a symphony to my ears."

Zephyr felt his face flushing with heat. "Ugh. You're disgusting," he replied hoarsely. "Stop embarassing me."

He shivered as another kiss landed on his neck. "Your scent is intoxicating. How can I stay away, my sweet, when you wait here at the end of the day. Waiting for me to unwrap you like a delicacy."

A choked sound escaped his throat, before it evolved into a genuine laughter. He felt Scourge grinning against his neck. "You're hopeless. So you're telling me that you're so horny right now you'd screw me even when I'm sick? I think you have a kink, big guy."

"No. There is only passion. And you, my darling, are a passion I will indulge always," Scourge growled.

Zephyr smiled even as he felt his face exploding in heat. "Honestly, you remind me sometimes of a nexu. It's cute."

Scourge tilted his head again and leaned down to give him one last kiss. Zephyr closed his eyes and smiled as they parted. "Are you speaking from personal experience? Or are you trying to distract me?" Scourge growled as he pressed their foreheads together.

A small flame of mischief ignited in his bones. Zephyr opened his eyes again and smirked, leaning away a little. "You're so easy to rile up, Scourge. It's so easy sometimes it even makes _me_ blush."

Scourge narrowed his eyes. "Do not test me, Jedi."

Pleasant heat erupted in his gut. He felt his heart stuttering as he continued the charade. "Admit it, Scourge," Zephyr smirked, lowering his voice a few octaves. "You're not always as in control as you think. I can play you like a fiddle if I could. But I don't."

His eyes fluttered shut in pleasure when the hand in his hair tensed and pulled slightly. "You should learn by now that Sith are hunters and Jedi are prey," Scourge growled. "I have been a hunter for much longer than you. I will enjoy hunting you, love."

Zephyr exhaled shakily. Nevertheless, he still smirked up at him. "I might have a few tricks up my sleeve. Why don't we find out?"

The beeping sound of his holocommunicator shattered the atmosphere. Zephyr laughed when Scourge turned his head and snarled loudly at the device. He felt hands grabbing his shirt and he let himself be pulled, still failing to contain his laughter. When Scourge snarled again at the next alert, he laughed until he had no more breath left.


	3. Never Gonna Say Goodbye, Never Gonna Tell a Lie and Hurt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been three days. Zephyr is bored and misbehaves. Scourge gets angry with him. They fight and they make up.

It has been three days since he was confined to his own quarters.

Suffice to say, he felt like an overactive nexu stalker locked in a cage. It has been shown in the past that nexu and small spaces never got along well. But Zephyr was a patient and deliberate man. Oh, yes, he was. He did not last this long by thinking of short term gratification. No, sir, he did not. He lasted this long because he was one of the best strategists in the galaxy. He can run circles around everyone while playing dejarik and sabacc at the same time. Zephyr considered himself an opportunist and able-bodied tactician.

And when the time came, Zephyr pounced on the opportunity. Scourge was forced to break his promise of not leaving his side before he recovered because a new lead arrived pertaining to the possible location of the lost starship that contained Grandmaster Satele Shan and the ones infected by the plague from Tenebrae's hideous Sith alchemy. Scourge assured him he would be back within a few days, at best.

Which meant, that Zephyr no longer had a mother hen to watch over him.

He was free.

Free to sneak in some work.

And the best part was that Scourge didn't have to know.

Zephyr looked up from where he was scrolling through the datapad that contained the daily activity reports around the Alliance. He looked around from where he was seated at his personal study. He smirked as he felt a ripple in the force that could have only came from one of his old friends. Their Force signature crackled with confusion and tinged with a little dose of exasperation.

Lana mostly likely noticed by now that the stack of datapads on her desk is a little less in number than yesterday. However, the Commander is a cunning vermin. Knowing of the security cameras posted around the roon, Zephyr used the stealth generator he borrowed from one of the SIS agents that recently joined the Alliance. Well, 'borrow' was less accurate of a term than it was to say that he stole it.

He had no regrets however.

Zephyr looked down again on his datapad and went back to perusing the reports. He picked up another datapad and started compiling his notes and thoughts on the reports. He immersed himself into the simple routine and for once, felt grateful at the break in the monotony of his life. His mind worked like a well-oiled machine as it fell back into the comfortable habits of processing data and analysing information. He felt himself going on autopilot, which allowed him to spare some energy to process other things that have been circulating around his mind.

Sure, he wasn't cleared yet for work. And true enough, he still feels the inertia that underpinned some of his thought processes. He was, technically, still recovering from the worst effects of his fever. But as long as no one knew, no one was harmed.

Right? It was right, of course. He was the Commander, for crying out loud. He is the highest level of authority here. No one would dare speak out against him. Unless your name was Lana Beniko or Scourge. But, so far, his mission was a success.

He grunted in satisfaction as he finished one more report on the datapad. After checking the inbox for any more work, he shut down that datapad, set it aside, and picked up the next one. As the screen turned on, he smiled deviously in satisfaction as he saw more than a dozen reports submitted for this branch of operations. Scrolling through the inbox, he laughed quietly as he realized that this fell into his area of expertise.

Numbers, statistics, mathematics. Most of the reports were about supply and logistics where it's all about tabulating the figures and computing the costs of equipment. But a few of them were the challenging ones he preferred. These ones challenged him to find solutions to further cut down costs and streamline the efficiency of their operations. He would need a holo-board for this in order to work out his thoughts. These reports will keep him occupied for a whole day.

However, that was only when he was at peak health. His mind recovered faster than his body, but he still felt the effects of his illness. He still gets lightheaded after standing for an hour. He still coughs and suffers shortness of breath.

But he had a purpose and a mission.

He shall not fail.

Zephyr jumped when a harsh sound flooded his quarters. His eyes turned to look at the beeping light on his holocom. He blinked rapidly, swallowing hard. He knew who was on the other side of that call. Frantically, he hid the datapads and sprinted for the bed. He cursed as a wave of dizziness assaulted his senses. Shaking his head, he sat down in the middle of the bed and answered the holocom.

He was met with the disgruntled face of Scourge. He furrowed his brows in confusion. "You look like someone killed your favourite pet."

"Lana was gracious enough to tell me that you stole some of her datapads. While I was away," Scourge said dryly and raised a ridged brow. "And she told me that she only noticed this an hour ago. Evidently, she had an . . . informed guess that you had been stealing work from her for the past day or so."

Inwardly, he cringed.

Outwardly, he raised his brows and made his eyes as wide as possible in order to appear clueless, the perfect picture of doe-eyed innocence.

"Why would she accuse me of that? Don't you trust me?" he said in mock hurt.

Scourge crossed his arms. Unfortunately, it only emphasized his musculature and he suddenly found it hard to concentrate. "I don't, and that's the problem," he retorted dryly. "You have a devious streak.So, were you working? Or do I have to find for that stack of datapads that you hid beneath the bed?"

Lana, you traitor. Why had he not predicted that as a possibility?

"I wasn't working. Scout's honor," he furrowed his brows again, maintaining that innocent expression. "And is that a threat?"

Scourge narrowed his eyes. " _Right_. Scout's honor? That means nothing to me, you realize that?"

"And . . . why would you take her word over mine?" he challenged back.

"Because I warned Theron Shan that you would pull something like this. And hence as someone using infiltration technology, you were flagged by the system," Scourge growled. "Are you seriously that incapable of sitting and behaving yourself for a few days? You're still sick and barely recovered. Why are you so adamant on working?"

"Try being sick, Scourge. I'm dying of boredom. My brain is dying," Zephyr retorted dryly. "It is dying of boredom. I'm bored. Have you tried that? It's not the best feeling in the world."

Scourge closed his eyes, as if this entire conversation was threatening to burst a blood vessel. "Your health is not something you should gamble away, Zephyr," he growled. "I can see your eyes. It looks like you haven't slept properly. Do you understand? Do you understand at all why I am even irritated beyond words at what you're doing? You need to stop jeopardizing your recovery."

Zephyr sighed. "I'm fine, Scourge. I'm fine. Honestly, you're overreacting. I feel better now. I guess I'm flattered you worry so much about me. But seriously, you need to calm down. I'm not working anymore."

Scourge narrowed his eyes, his crimson eyes blazing with violent irritation. "So, he finally admits it. And no, I won't calm down and stay quiet about this. That's always been your tactic, Zephyr. Whenever you get uncomfortable, you turn tail and sweep the bloody problem under the rug before anyone has a chance to address it. You're sometimes selfish like that. Please, stop it. For the sake of my sanity. For once, don't be your usual hard-headed self and listen to the doctor's orders."

Zephyr inhaled again and sighed, feeling the skin beneath his eye twitching as frustration courses through him. He grits his teeth and all of the lightheartedness he tried to maintain between them evaporated from him. He snorted and growled at the back of his throat.

A small part of him felt stung at the accusation that he was being selfish. Everything they were fighting about was an issue that always never failed to cause a rift between them. He was frustrated because he was not able to do anything remotely helpful or productive for the Alliance. Damn it, he was sick but he wasn't dumb enough to not know his own limits at least!

He could feel his temper rising. Maybe he should cut it off before it makes things worse.

Oh, what the kriff was he thinking? It was too late for that.

"I'm not working, did you even hear me say that? _I'm not working_. At least not anymore," he snapped. "Krayt spit! I know my own limits, Scourge! I know how hard I should work and how I can take care of myself. Why does everyone feel the need to treat me like fine china?"

"That is precisely where our views diverge, Zephyr," the Sith growls. "I know you. You would work yourself to the bone if you could. It's unhealthy and even the others could see it. Do you still remember when you almost collapsed from sheer exhaustion running around with THORN, exterminating rakghouls?"

"That was one time! One time! Why the kriffing heck do you always bring that up?" he snapped back.

"I always bring it up because I want you to understand where I am coming from!" Scourge growled back, his mouth now pulled back to a snarl. "Deliberately jeopardizing your health like that is a very selfish thing to do. Mild or not, I don't care. Why can't you see that you have people relying on you to keep things in order!"

Logically, he knew that Scourge cared about him. He knows that Scourge would never get this worked up over something he didn't care about. He knew that the Sith was very protective of him, and anything involving him. But it didn't mean that the sting of his words hurt any less. In fact, it hurt more than he could say given how close they were. He wasn't perfect and he would admit he was a prideful man. A prideful Jedi and Sith never mixed well. The accusation hurts. But he would rather slit his own throat than admit his weakness.

"You made your point loud and clear, Scourge," he tried to say it as coldly as he could, but the roughness in his voice gave him away. Krayt spit. He never got what he wanted. "Now, unless you called for any other reason besides to yell at me, I think I'm going to cut it off here."

"No, we are not done talking about this --"

Oh, yes, he was.

He shuts down the frequency from his end. He tosses it away from him and it lands on the other side of the bed. He growls softly and lies back down on his bed with a violent fall. He exhaled sharply and growled again, ignoring the pang that was tearing through his chest.

"If I'm not working, I'll just take a kriffing nap," he muttered indignantly.

He pulled back the blankets and settled in them, bundling them tightly around him. As an added measure, he turned on his side so his back was facing the durasteel doors that led to his quarters. He dimmed the lights to the lowest possible setting and closed his eyes. He doesn't know how long it would be until Scourge comes back, but if he does come early, he'll make sure he's not awake to see that.

Talk about bickering like an old married couple. Maybe that was what they were, or at least doomed to be in the years down the line. He shuddered at the thought. If Kira was here, she would be having a laugh at his expense. He knew he was being petty doing this, but damn it! He was a grown man and he's an independent one at that. He won't be bossed around by anyone.

He dozes off a few minutes later.

Maybe, Scourge had a point if he didn't feel himself getting as tired as he was right now.

* * *

He awakens again to the sound of muffled footsteps around his room. The Force crackled around the figure and he knew that Scourge has returned from his journey of enlightenment. Maybe that journey of enlightenment involved a lesson on minding his temper. He didn't mean for that to sound as sarcastic as he thought it, but then again, he wasn't the ideal Jedi either. 'Emotion, yet peace' was not the most relevant wisdom right now. It wouldn't help him at all. As childish as he knew it was, the idea of still being annoyed was an attractive idea. And he always had a weakness to attractive things. Correction, he was just attracted to _attractive_ ideas.

Kriff. Maybe there was something wrong with his neurochemistry if he couldn't even keep his own head straight.

When he felt the mattress dipping behind him, he crossed his arms and huddled deeper into the blankets wrapped around him. He scowled and remained silent. He was never going to say anything until he had to.

"I apologize for being too harsh on you," Scourge says quietly.

Well, that was unexpected.

"I just want what's best for you, you know that right? I said I would do anything to protect you. Do you remember that? I just want you to be well again," Scourge continued whispering behind him, the earlier harshness in his voice gone. "I understand this is hard for you. But I think you should know that there are people that care about your wellbeing. And it never sits well with us whenever you get hurt."

Tempting. Too tempting. But he was still feeling petty, even if the desire to not be is getting more tempting by the second.

"I know you're eager to get back into the thick of things. But maybe you should also learn what it is to rest and recuperate. I still stand by what I said in the sense that what you really need is to rest and recover," the Sith was now carding his fingers through his hair. Zephyr fought the shiver that ran down his spine. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. But I care about you. And your wellbeing is important to me. I never said that enough. I truly care about you."

Zephyr exhaled. He slowly turned around and gazed up at the Sith. The frost in his heart melted significantly when he saw the soft smile on that face, crimson eyes glistening with an intensity that makes him feel oddly small.

"I just - I just don't want to feel like I'm not doing anything helpful," he muttered. "I don't do well, just sitting there. I need movement. I need purpose. I need something to be busy with. I can't stand silence."

He shut his eyes when a large hand cupped his cheek, a stray thumb brushing over his pale skin.

"Perhaps we need to work together on that. I think it was a mistake to leave your side too early," Scourge said gently, his thumb still brushing over the pale planes of his cheek. "I should have known better. I think it would be beneficial for us both to work together on a set of goals, in order to prevent arguments like this from occurring in the future."

Zephyr opened his eyes, smiling as a strong wave of affection squeezes his heart. "Scourge, you romantic sap," he chuckled softly. "You know just the way to get to a guy's heart."

"Our relationship is important to me," Scourge said in a serious tone, but Zephyr could see the fondness in those eyes. "And honesty is a way to build that, to build that future together."

If he didn't know better, he might think Scourge was propositioning him.

Zephyr smirked. "Till death do us part, Scourge?"

Scourge blinked, caught off guard. He furrowed his brows. "I do not understand your statement."

Zephyr blinked, scowling in confusion. "Wait - you, you don't know what I meant when I said that?"

Scourge blinked again. "No."

Huh, weird. For someone who lived through all those centuries at the side of the Emperor, he should've picked up on a few things. Which meant that he would have to explain what that meant.

And he really didn't want to. Because, you see, when he explains it, Scourge might start getting...ideas, he might start putting two and two together. And right now, he was just too embarassed to explain what that human idiom means.

Zephyr blinked furiously, frowning a little more. He cursed himself as he felt heat pooling his cheeks. He shook his head and looked away, exhaling sharply. "Nevermind. Forget what I said," he muttered.

"No, I think I want to know what that means," Scourge replied, and Zephyr felt himself deflating as he heard the sly and amused undertone creeping into those words.

He huffed, and felt his shame increasing as he felt his pulse racing. Zephyr, you stupid fool. " _No._ I - I will not, absolutely will not, tell you anything. I don't have to," he sputtered, and he cursed himself even more for stumbling. "I don't have to. Shoo. Go away. Stop teasing me."

Damn it. Why? Why does he always react like the pathetic schoolboy hiding behind the tree while he pines over his crush? There were some days he regrets ever being born as a pale-skinned human.

He swallowed as a finger touches his chin, tilting his head up to meet the amused gaze of the Sith. His pulse skipped a few beats when he saw the predatory glint in that gaze. "Zephyr, you're blushing magnificently. You never react like this unless it has something to do with us. You _were_ thinking of something that had to do with us both. Thinking so _intensely_ about it, in fact, that it resulted in this delightful loss of composure."

"I am not telling you what it means," Zephyr narrowed his eyes, stubbornly determined to ignore the fact that he was rapidly losing the paleness of his skin as more heat takes over his face. "It's a human thing. It's...it's gonna take a while. To explain it," he swallowed nervously as Scourge raised a brow. "And, and I don't feel energetic enough to do that. Right now. So, just, leave it?"

Scourge smirked, and that devastating smirk dealt the last blow. He feels his heart going on cardiac arrest and he had to blink several times just to feel he wasn't actually dying on a physical level. He was sure that the looked like he just came back from a furnace.

"Perhaps I should ask Kira," the Sith speculated in a mocking tone. "I think she would be willing to divulge _more_ information than you would ever share with me."

Zephyr blanched, swallowing hard. "No. Please don't. I'm going to die if you do that."

"And why should I listen to you?" Scourge smirked.

Zephyr scowled. "You know what? _Fine_. Go, go and ask her if you still want to know," he sputtered. "But here's something to consider. What if she doesn't tell you? What if she tells you to figure it out yourself?"

"You underestimate my resourcefulness, Zephyr," Scourge smirked. "I have ways of getting that information."

Zephyr felt himself flushing even more. "You know what, I give up. You do what you do," he looked away, frowning as a prickle of anxiety stirred his gut. "But when you do find out, you might not like the idea."

"And why is that?"

Zephyr exhaled sharply. "No. I'm not telling you. You mentioned you wanted to set goals for us? Well, this is the first one. Figure this out. And figure it out for yourself if you want that."

What if Scourge didn't want that? What if this breaks it? He was a grand idiot for accidentally mentioning this.

A hand cupped his cheek again amd he couldn't help but look at him in the eye again. "This is really important to you, isn't it?" Scourge inquired gently.

Zephyr exhaled slowly. "It depends on who you ask," he rasped, swallowing again. "But, yeah. It is. It is, important to me. And I can't tell you what it means. Because this is something you need to figure out for yourself. It's a human thing. Don't take it personally."

"What must I do?" Scourge asked softly. "What must I do to put you at ease?"

Zephyr shook his head. "You're asking the wrong question. This is something you need to ask for yourself," he said quietly. "If you do find out what it means, then please, all I ask is that you take the time to think about it. Don't - don't make a decision you'll regret. That's all I ask."

"Zephyr, you must know by now that nothing you do will get me to leave you," Scourge said softly as he leaned over, touching their foreheads together. Zephyr closed his eyes, afraid of what he was going to see in those eyes. "I don't understand human customs. But I detect fear and insecurity from you. If it puts you at ease, I will never leave you. I will never leave your side. I made a promise and I always keep my word."

Even with all the insecurities in his head, he can't help but feel a swarm of affection squeezing his chest. He opened his eyes and smiled, leaning a little closer. He laughed quietly as he left a soft kiss on the corner of Scourge's mouth. Before he pulled away, a large hand carded through his ebony hair and pulled him back in. He shivered as their lips joined a gentle exchange of passion. When they broke away, he felt heat pooling in his face and his heart skipped a few beats.

"I will never leave you."

Zephyr smiled.


End file.
